


More Than I Can Return

by callmejude



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 06:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmejude/pseuds/callmejude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for the kinkmeme prompt: "Newt likes to flirt with Hermann, the fact that he never flirts back does not discourage him at all. An outsider might think that Newt is foolishly in love with someone who doesn't care about him back at all. But one day in the lab out of nowhere, Hermann says, "Alright, what if I just bring you off with my hand? Will that make you more bearable?"</p><p>Newt's thrilled and doesn't miss a beat. "God, Hermann, a handy would be awesome right now! Thanks, man!", all while he's unzipping his fly and grabbing the surgical lube for improper use.</p><p>From then on they start hooking up whenever it pleases both of them. Sometimes handjobs, sometimes frottage, occasionally one will penetrate the other. But most importantly, Newt never stops calling Hermann "man" or "dude" during the act, and keeps talking as if Hermann was just doing him a mundane favour, or he was doing a favour for Hermann.</p><p>It isn't until they sit on the sofa in Hermann's room one night, cuddling up and making out after a taxing workday, with no signs of anyone unclothing or unzipping, that Newt thinks maybe affection has something to do with it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Back when the jaeger program was new, things like finding sex were not a trial at all. Newton was actually a rather enthusiastic wingman when Hermann begrudgingly let him drag him out on leave, and in the beginning there were many types of women who were interested in the things he had to say. 

But as the years wore on, the army became the resistance. The Wall started being built, and telling a woman "I developed the algorithm for the jaeger" wasn't exactly enough anymore.

Hermann was more or less all right with the loss of interest, all things considered. He has rarely seen the point in engaging in sexual activity with another person. When he desires as much, he's usually too uncomfortable to go out and find a willing participant, as it is. Newton had been expert enough at finding understanding women with similar minds to his, at first, but now that it was more difficult, it was hardly worth the trouble.

He knows that Newton suffers similarly, but at a much louder volume, as he is wont to do. Hermann knows Newton was never exactly skilled at wooing anyone for himself, but he was much more willing to take the steps to do so, and therefore had a slightly more elevated track record. Also a much lower tolerance for dry spells.

"Eight months, man, this is just so frustrating. Don't you find it hard to focus? I find it hard to focus. How can you possibly focus?"

"I can't," Hermann snarls, "You're talking too much."

"Oh, sorry. I kinda run my mouth when I get anxious."

"You run your mouth _consistently,_ Newton."

Newton grins. "I'm consistently anxious."

Hermann rolls his eyes. It's been four straight days of this and he simply cannot take it anymore. "Newton," he says, "I'm going to make an offer, and I want you to understand that this is purely for my own benefit of silencing your complaints. Is that clear?"

"What offer?" Newton asks, tilting his head, as if he doesn't think anything on this planet could shut him up. Hermann has to agree to his skepticism.

"If I bring you to climax with my hand will that satisfy you enough? Will you finally stop complaining?"

Newton stares at him for a split second before answering, "Dude, _totally_. Oh my God, that's awesome." He turns to his desk and roots around in one of the bottom drawers. He pulls out a long tube and reads the back of it. "Yeah sure, this is safe," he says with a shrug. He opens another drawer and pulls out a towel. Hermann is quite positive he doesn't want to know what it is normally used for.

"You want me to come to your side?"

Hermann does _not_ actually want Newton on his side in the slightest, but it's the lesser of the two evils when pitted against Hermann crossing to Newton's disgusting half of the lab. "Uh," he hesitates, "I suppose that's best."

Newton bounces over the line and spreads the towel over the top of his desk before hopping up onto it. Hermann must make a face because Newton says quickly, "Don't worry, it's clean. I promise."

"'Clean' by your standards is a very different -" Hermann starts, but Newton cuts him off.

"Dude, I promise, it's as clean as it's gonna ever get." He unzips his pants and shuffles them down his hips. Hermann wonders why he didn't do that before jumping up on the desk. He squeezes a dollop of the lube Newton found onto his hand as he watches, and startles at the sight of more tattoos traveling over Newton’s hips, disappearing into his ridiculously tight jeans as well as up past the edge of his shirt.

"How many of those do you _have?_ " Hermann asks, scandalized.

Newton looks bewildered. "O-one? What?" He looks down and laughs. "Oh, tattoos? I dunno, man, they're all over. Wanna see? I figured this was a clothes-on operation, but-"

"No, no. That's...quite all right."

Newton looks almost disappointed, but he shrugs. "All right."

Hermann wraps his hand around Newton's dick and gives it an experimental tug. Newton reaches down and puts his hand over Hermann's, adjusting his grip to his liking. "Go kinda slow," he says conversationally, as if he's giving him directions down a dirt road rather than anything sexual. "I mean, if you wanna get this over with that's fine, but I'll probably still bitch if it's not done right."

He's grinning, and Hermann almost wants to punch him. But he doesn't, and does as he asks.

To Hermann's abject horror, Newton still feels the need to speak.

"Thanks for this, man, I was probably gonna go nuts after too long. I don't know how you stand it. Do you stand it? I mean, I'm making assumptions here, maybe you don't."

Hermann clicks his tongue. Against his better judgement, he answers, "I have no problem taking care of myself."

He thinks Newton is going to laugh at him, but he rolls his fingers and all that comes out of Newton's mouth is a low hum. "Yeah well, go figure with hands like that, dude. I gotta say, you have a good technique."

"I cannot believe you are _still_ talking."

"Sorry," Newton answers, embarrassed, "I just feel like it would be awkward if we were quiet, you know? I figured the deal was I'd be quiet after."

Hermann sees his point, but doesn't admit it, instead making a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat.

"You want payback for this?" Newton says, and Hermann notices his voice is starting to sound a little winded, "I mean your hands are - _fuck_ \- pretty talented but I've got a few moves of my own, and I like, definitely owe you, man. This is a really big deal."

Hermann feels the hair stand on the back of his neck. "No, it isn't."

"No, man, I don't mean - I mean like you deserve thanks for it, not - nah, it's not a big deal, right? This isn't a romantic thing.” 

Hermann makes a face, and Newton laughs breathlessly. “I just, you know, thought I’d offer, since you - oh, shit."

Hermann rolls his fingers again, and Newton comes with a choked curse. He teeters slightly, and Hermann grabs his shoulder with his clean hand to steady him. When he seems to have regained his balance, Hermann lets him go to wash his hands in the sink.

"Your silence is payback enough," he says as Newton tucks himself back into his pants


	2. Chapter 2

Newton is quiet for four minutes.

"So like a blowjob?"

Hermann feels the back of his neck turn red. "I don't require -"

"C'mon man, I'm a gentleman. I can't just leave you with nothing."

"Newton -" Hermann starts, but he lets the thought sink in. As bad as it sounds, it actually isn't a terrible idea. Orgasms do tend to realign his focus, and if they made this a semi-regular thing it would help them both to deal with stress, as well as things like insomnia and distraction. And Newton might actually be quiet every now and then.

Newton looks unnervingly eager to please, so Hermann lays out the suggestion in the form of a question, in an attempt to make it sound like it isn't his idea.

"Is this going to be a regular thing with you, now?"

Newton beams at him. "Can it be? Dude, it totally can be, like, friends with benefits, I'm totally for it."

Without thinking, Hermann responds, "I am not your friend."

Newton scoffs, but that doesn't deter him in the slightest. "Lab partners with benefits, then. Who knows, maybe we'll become friends in the process. I don't care, I just like the idea that I may be getting laid more often."

Hermann doesn't want to admit that he likes the idea, too. He may be quieter about his displeasure than Newton, but he doesn't disagree that it wears on him. Instead, he sighs. "All right, but could you please be _quiet_ this time?"

Newton nods. "Blowjob it is, then. Coming right up, man. Here, sit down, I don't want your leg giving out or anything." He grabs the desk chair and swivels it over to Hermann. The gesture is somehow unexpected, and it takes him a moment to process it and actually sit down.

Hermann opens his own slacks before Newton can try, watching him get down on his knees and shift around until he feels comfortable. He stiffens when Newton puts his hand on his bad leg, but it's only to hold it still.

As Newton strokes him to hardness, he asks, "So how regular is this gonna be?"

Hermann doesn't think he has an answer to that question. He keeps his voice as even as possible to say, "Whenever it's absolutely necessary, I suppose."

That somehow seems answer enough for Newton. "Cool," he says shortly, and wraps his mouth around Hermann's dick.

It has been quite some time since Hermann has received oral sex, longer than any other sex act he's been engaged in, and Newton is rather alarmingly proficient at it. Hermann grips at his chair to keep from burying his hands in Newton's hair as he slides his tongue under the head.

Newton uses his free hand to wrap around the base of Hermann's cock and stroke tight and hard, and Hermann has to bite his lip to keep from groaning. Newton's not looking at him, but he somehow must notice, because he strokes harder, pulling back to tongue at the head again before swallowing him back down.

Before too long, Hermann is trying not to shake. His knuckles are white in an effort to stay locked onto the chair, and Newton is starting to make sounds, causing a vibration to shudder all the way up Hermann's spine. "Newton," he grinds out, finally letting go of the chair to push at his shoulder, but that only seems to inspire Newton to suck harder.

" _Scheiße!_ " Hermann hisses as he comes down Newton's throat, feeling a little guilty when he pulls off coughing.

Newton sits back on his heels as Hermann catches his breath. Once he finally does, he mutters, "Sorry, tried to warn you."

Newton grins. "This is definitely gonna be a regular thing. You just _apologized_ to me. I knew you just needed to get laid."

Hermann frowns, and Newton winks at him as he gets to his feet. "I'm kidding. Lighten up, Hermann."

They don't bring it up again for nearly a month, when Newton suddenly stops jotting down whatever it is he's discovered in his notebook and says, "Hermann, can I come over?"

Hermann stops what he's doing and looks over, confused. "What?"

Newton looks a little nervous, which isn't exactly uncharacteristic, but it still seems strange. He takes off his gloves and checks his shirt for any kaiju splatter before mumbling, "I'm having trouble concentrating, so I was...if you're not busy, or...anything."

It takes Hermann a moment to understand, but when he does, he feels the back of his neck itch. "Oh. Right, of course." He shuffles awkwardly off his ladder and sets down his chalk. Newton wanders over to his side as he washes his hands. 

When Hermann turns around he nearly knocks Newton over. Hermann yelps, but Newton doesn't even seem to notice. "I was wondering, are other forms off the table?"

"What?"

"Like are you only open to handjobs or can we do other stuff?"

Hermann doesn't know what to say to that right away, but Newton just keeps talking as if he wasn’t expecting him to answer, anyway. "I'm not trying to pressure you or anything I just wanted to ask, yanno, just in case. I'm not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth here but I figured I'd let you know I'm open to whatever."

Hermann blinks. "Really?"

"That shocks you?" Newton laughs, and he's still far too close, so Hermann finally takes a step back. "But like, I know you have the germ thing or whatever, so I won't take it the wrong way if -"

"Germ - I do not have a _'germ thing,'_ " Hermann snaps. "Just because I -” he starts to explain before rolling his eyes. This line of conversation is useless, so he skips ahead to the point. “If you'd rather something else I'm sure it will be fine."

Newton beams at him, and Hermann feels dread in the pit of his stomach. "Within reason," he adds hastily, and Newton laughs.

"I'm not asking to get kinky, dude, I'm just trying to make it easier."

Hermann squints. “Pardon?”

Gesturing vaguely, Newton mutters, “Just - here, sit down.” When Hermann hesitates, Newton reaches for his slacks. Hermann lets him, dazedly, and Newton guides him back onto his desk. Hermann sits, and watches as Newton opens his own jeans.

Before Hermann can say anything, Newton slathers his hand with the lube from his desk and presses them together, asking, “Like this, is this okay?”

It feels different. Hermann has only been with one other man in his life and they hadn’t done this. Hermann doesn’t say anything soon enough and Newton pulls away.

“Dude, if you’re not okay with -”

“It’s fine,” Hermann assures quickly, and Newton lets out a breath. 

“Okay, good. Just lemme know if you don’t - like, want anything, okay?”

Hermann blinks at him. “It’s fine,” he says again. 

Newton still isn’t quiet while he strokes them. What’s worse, this time he seems intent on talking about work. “So dude, what do you think of the theory that the kaiju are all clones of each other?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am though! I was looking at some samples, and -”

“Newton,” Hermann grits out, “I understand it’s very hard for you to keep your mouth shut for longer than a minute, but I need you to understand that I will not listen to you talk about your specimens while your hand is wrapped around my penis.”

Newton chuckles at the word ‘penis’, and Hermann wonders how this man ever became a biologist with any sort of respectable background. “Jeez, so touchy,” Newton teases.

Hermann bristles slightly before Newton squeezes his fingers in just a way, and all that Hermann can manage is a soft, “ _ah!_ ”

Newton tilts his head. “You’re kind of easy to please,” he says with a smirk. “This is the best arrangement I’ve ever been in.” 

Hermann groans, out of frustration more than anything else, despite what the pleased look on Newton’s face seems to think. “You’re not difficult either, really. I don’t know what kind of worth you’re putting on this particular talent, but honestly there isn’t much required for men in this situation.”

Newton laughs, and Hermann realizes his hand is tangled in Newton’s hair. He isn’t sure when he’d grabbed him, but instead of pulling away, he tightens his grip. Newton’s breath hitches, just barely, and Hermann grins.

“My point exactly.”

When Newton comes, cutting himself off mid-sentence about something Hermann refuses to listen to, he falls blessedly silent, and lets Hermann lace his fingers with his own, forcing him to continue for Hermann’s sake.

“ _I’m_ easy, he says,” Hermann grumbles. This time, when Newton laughs, it comes out more of a breathless little huff.

He places his forehead on Hermann’s shoulder, pleasantly spent. It feels strange, but Hermann lets him. At least he’s quiet. When Hermann comes, he gets up to go to the sink while Newton lets himself slump over onto Hermann's desk, half of his body resting over it like he's going to climb it.

“Are you just going to sit there?”

Newton shakes his head. “Gimme a sec, man, I didn’t really get to bask in afterglow last time.”

Hermann rolls his eyes as he dries his hands with a paper towel. As an afterthought, he grabs another small handful of them and wets them at the sink before bringing them to Newton. “Do you have to bask on my desk?”

“Do you not know what basking _is?_ ” Newton answers, snatching the paper towels out of Hermann’s hand and cleaning himself off. 

After a few seconds of glaring, he hops off Hermann’s desk and goes back to his own work, and for twenty fantastic minutes, the lab is quiet before Newton turns around and says, “I’m hungry, you wanna go to lunch?”


	3. Chapter 3

The routine they develop isn’t exactly that. There’s no set period of time - though Newton does usually seem to get too antsy to keep quiet after about a month - nor is there a set of what they’ll actually be doing. After the first few times, they become too erratic to even assume where, and Newton takes it upon himself to stash bottles of lube around the lab.

The first time they fall back onto the couch, Newton rocking against Hermann’s lap, he stops to lean forward and scoops a tube out from underneath it. “Man, I love how intuitive I am.” he says with a flourish.

Hermann scoffs. “You predicted we’d eventually have sex on the sofa,” he says, shoving his slacks off his hips as Newton kicks one leg out of his jeans. “How brilliant of you.”

They never bother to get fully undressed. It takes too much time, which goes against the purpose of the whole thing. Not to mention that with the possibility of alarm bells sounding any minute, they really shouldn’t even try. No one else knows of their agreement, and they both consider it best that way.

Running down to the Shatterdome bunker or LOCCENT while only half-dressed would unfortunately give them away rather quickly. “At any rate,” Hermann teases once, when it comes up in passing conversation, “Your blasted tattoos would probably ruin the mood.”

Newton had stuck his tongue out at him like an immature child before fucking Hermann against his blackboard.

It’s not particularly routine, but it’s familiar and comfortable. They don’t exactly agree to be monogamous, but it’s easier to be. They understand each other - in more ways even than is necessary for sex. It makes it simple.

As the war trudges on, no one really notices. With the kaiju to focus on, people don’t bother sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong. If the k-science team is suddenly at each other’s throats less often than usual, it’s nothing to complain about.

In all actuality, they probably haven’t changed enough for anyone to notice, anyway. Newton still goes out of his way to blare obnoxious music, Hermann still makes daily complaints that he thinks are somehow anonymous despite the fact that he is the only other person forced to share a room with the subject of every single submission.

It doesn’t matter. Despite how much they can’t stand each other, they don’t seem to want it any other way. They don’t ever make any effort to change.

They’re in Hong Kong, and it’s been several weeks since the last time they’ve had sex. It isn’t unheard of. Since the first year, it sometimes gets too busy to make the time, others they simply don’t think about it for a while. But something about it feels different, like Newton wants to ask, but is holding back.

He hasn’t really been awkward about asking since the first time, so Hermann’s not entirely sure what’s stopping him. After the first few times he even got bold enough to simply march over to Hermann’s side and shove him into his chair with a muttered, “Stop me if you’re busy” before crawling into his lap.

But he’s been jumpy all day, and continues to make excuses to leave his work in the middle, kaiju innards dripping on his desk as he mumbles something about seeing Pentecost or needing to use the restroom or just inexplicably taking a walk. Hermann doesn’t question it. It’s not like Newton doesn’t usually seem ready to jump out of his skin. If he’s a little moreso than usual, it’s probably just due to throwing off the timing of his meds. Hermann almost turns to scold him about it, toward the end of the evening, but Newton interrupts him.

“I’m starving, I’m gonna go get us dinner.”

Hermann blinks, but before he can say anything, Newton is out the door.

Newton usually only goes to get them both meals to bring back to the lab when Hermann’s leg is particularly bothering him, which Hermann has realized Newton notices when he leans too heavily on his ladder or actually uses his chair to sit at his desk.

But Hermann hasn’t sat down all day. His leg is simply a painfully nagging twinge at the back of his mind. He wonders if maybe he was leaning on his ladder earlier without realizing. For a moment, he contemplates following Newton to the cafeteria, but decides against it. If Newton wants to get him dinner, Hermann isn’t going to complain.

When Newton comes back to the lab, he’s carrying two trays. He motions to the couch with his head and tells Hermann, “C’mon, let’s eat.”

He turns on the old TV he’d set up in front of the couch and rifles around in his movies before pulling out _Tremors_. Hermann rolls his eyes.

“Your ability to watch these things while you eat is almost disturbing,” he says grumpily, and Newton takes the hint and puts it back.

“Okay, what do you wanna watch?”

Hermann shrugs. He tries to think of something Newton will agree to watch that isn’t grotesque or a low-budget monster movie, but he comes up with nothing. “Is there anything you enjoy that doesn’t involve copious amounts of fake blood or terrible green screen technology?”

Newton shrugs. “I don’t think so,” he says honestly. Despite himself, Hermann laughs.

They’re still no closer to deciding on anything by the time they’ve both finished eating, so Newton gives up and sits next to Hermann on the couch with a huff. “I guess we won’t watch anything, then.”

Hermann doesn’t mind. He’s probably too tired to pay attention to anything, anyway. Watching Newton buzzing around more than usual all day has been exhausting by proxy. He leans back until his head hits the armrest of the sofa, and he closes his eyes.

Suddenly, there’s a pressure on his chest. Hermann opens his eyes to see Newton settled over him, one arm next to Hermann’s head to hold most of his weight. “Hi,” he grins. Hermann twists his mouth to keep from smirking.

“Is there something you want, Dr. Geiszler?”

He’s teasing, but Newton looks at him as if it’s a serious question, something he needs to consider. 

“Yeah,” he says after a long pause, and before Hermann can even react, Newton leans down and kisses him.

He’s gentle, but insistent, and Hermann feels himself melting into the kiss before he can think to do otherwise. Newton’s hands are hot on his face, burning fingers wrapping around the back of Hermann’s neck, but they don’t travel any further. 

His mouth pulls away, but only for a moment, only to kiss Hermann’s neck before going back to his mouth, sliding his tongue past his lips, carding his fingers through Hermann’s hair. When he rolls his thumbs just over Hermann’s cheekbones, Hermann lets out a low hum, a spark rolling down his spine.

He feels Newton force himself not to smile into the kiss as he does it again. His hands are strong and warm, and it’s been so long since they’ve done anything at all that the touch is making Hermann shiver.

At a loss of what else to do, Hermann reaches up and runs his fingers over Newton’s face. He feels Newton’s breath catch and clenches a hand in his hair. Newton groans, kissing back harder, and Hermann has no idea why, but his heart is hammering against his ribs hard enough to hurt.

Newton’s hands are shaking against Hermann’s skin, and Hermann grabs onto his wrist to steady it, holding his other hand against Newton’s chest to hold him back. “Newton.”

“Yeah?” His voice is wavering and breathless, even more than when they do anything else. It feels unnatural that he’s this quiet, that he hasn’t called Hermann ‘dude’ or ‘man’ at all in the past ten minutes. His heartbeat is frantic against Hermann’s hand, like he’s been running for miles.

Hermann frowns. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Newton says again, covering Hermann’s mouth in another kiss before he can continue the conversation. Against his better judgment, Hermann allows it.

Whenever they break for air, Newton’s grip on Hermann gets tighter, as if afraid he’s going to run away. Hermann watches him, nervous, but doesn’t say anything. Their breaks don’t last long enough for either of them to try, anyway.

When Hermann finally gathers the courage to reach for Newton’s belt, Newton pushes his hand away. “It’s okay,” he says in between kisses, “I just want - it’s okay. This is okay.” He laces his fingers with Hermann’s and presses his hand back against the couch. Hermann, to his embarrassment, feels his heart jump into his throat.

They fall asleep that way, curled into each other, Newton still holding Hermann’s hand in his.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermann wakes up in the middle of the night, his leg searing and his left side dead asleep under Newton’s weight. His glasses are knocked askew and he’s drooling on Hermann’s shirt and he’s the most beautiful thing Hermann has seen in his life.

_Oh no._

This can’t happen. It can’t. It can’t be serious and it can’t mean anything. The minute it means something it’s going to fall apart. Hermann shuts his eyes and tries not to focus on how even with the furious pain in his leg and his numb side, he’s never wanted so badly to stay right where he is.

Frantic, Hermann disentangles himself as quickly as he can without disturbing Newton, who, thankfully, sleeps like the dead. The last thing he does is pry his hand from Newton’s, and cringes at the emptiness that settles over him as the last of their skin stops touching.

Newton makes a noise and shifts in his sleep.

Instantly, Hermann regrets getting up, wants to climb back onto the couch and curl around Newton entirely, let his hands wander over him and kiss his hair. How did he let this happen? It wasn’t this way at first. It had just been simple release.

But then it was less about the release, more about the closeness and the skin and the way Newton shivered right before he came. Suddenly, the way his voice would start to strain as he struggled to keep talking at the peak of his orgasm became more important than getting him to be quiet in the end. The way he’d sometimes rest his forehead on Hermann’s chest afterward meant more than when he would reciprocate.

He should have known this was a mistake. He’s never felt so stupid.

Hermann stumbles back to his room, sore and alone, and curls up tightly in his bed, trying not to remember how it felt to have someone draped over him and keeping him warm.

He does not fall back asleep.

The next morning, Hermann can tell Newton wants to speak to him, so he awkwardly tries his best to keep the subject at bay. However, Hermann doesn’t have the social skill to keep a running monologue going. He does not succeed for long.

“Okay,” Newton says when Hermann finally runs out of ways to keep him from talking, “So I’m guessing you’re not cool with what happened last night.”

Hermann doesn’t know what to say, so he stays silent.

“Was it the sleeping together on the couch or the kissing? Both?”

“I think it’s best we stop this.”

The words come out of Hermann’s mouth before he can stop them. The minute they’re out he wants to take them back, but he can’t. It would be too obvious now. It's too late, and he hates himself. Newton is looking at him with an expression Hermann has never seen on his face before. His eyebrows are knitted and his mouth is pursed and he doesn’t say anything for a long time.

‘For -” he clears his throat, “For like, good?”

_No,_ Hermann wants to say, but he nods.

"Like uh, like now?"

Hermann thinks about that. He could say no, he could indulge in one last time. But the more he thinks about it, the more the idea seems more painful than anything else. It would just hurt, now, knowing what he could have had if he'd just kept the right distance. He tries to picture it, but now the simplicity is ruined. He pictures pulling Newton into a kiss, falling asleep in bed together. Hermann shuts his eyes. He'll spoil it. He knows he will. He takes a deep breath through his nose and nods, resolved. He opens his mouth to say 'yes,' but nothing comes out, so he closes it.

Newton doesn't seem to notice. He's nodding, as well, but he doesn’t look like he understands what he’s doing. “Right,” he says after a moment. “It was getting too - yeah, right, no, that makes sense. We should stop.”

Hermann can tell he doesn’t want to, that he can take it back now, and he wants to. He wants to desperately, and he feels guilty. It was such a perfect arrangement, where everything was just so easily taken care of, but then Hermann has to call it off.

And Newton, Hermann realizes, knows why. _It was getting too…_ Too much. Too close. He can feel Hermann getting attached, and so he agrees. He may hate not having an easy fix to his frustration anymore, but he knows that all things considered it’s for the best, because he doesn’t want what Hermann does. How could he?

Newton is still nodding, but he hasn’t said anything for several minutes. “Yeah,” he says finally. “Okay. Sorry, should’ve known it was a dumb idea when we came up with it, huh?”

Hermann still can’t speak, so he nods again.

Newton parrots him. "Right," he says again. They don't move for a moment, staring at each other, then at the floor. There's nothing more to say, but neither wants to be the first to leave. It should be Newton anyway - he's on Hermann's side. But Hermann doesn't want him to leave. it'll be the last time and he knows it, and he can't bear it. His hand clenches into a fist to keep from reaching out.

Newton nods again and clears his throat. "Right," he says a final time before turning on his heel and walking back to his side of the lab.

Right. 

Hermann swallows hard and looks at his chalkboard. Nothing on the board is making any sense to him, all of a sudden. His heart is all but vibrating from how hard it’s beating. The roaring in his ears is deafening and he can’t breathe.

Panicking. He’s panicking. The room is starting to spin, so he collapses hard into his chair. He looks up to call for Newton, but as he realizes that isn’t an option anymore, he sees he isn’t even in the lab. When did he leave? Where did he go? He can’t tell if he’s relieved or furious, but then his eyes are prickling and he can’t feel anything but embarrassment.

This is absolutely ridiculous. He's reacting like a child. He'd hated the man when he first met him. He remembers the day they'd started this stupid arrangement. Hermann had only wanted silence. How fucking stupid could he be? He can't tell if he wants to take back what he said two minutes ago or what he said two years ago. He looks at the floor until his vision blurs, clenching sobs behind his teeth.

By the time Newton comes back, Hermann is still sitting worn in his chair, but has at the very least composed himself. He scrambles to look busy as Newton enters the room and then cringes at how obviously he was just staring straight on past his blackboard. Newton doesn’t speak to him the whole rest of the night, and Hermann doesn’t try to fill the silence. Hermann retires to bed first, and he stumbles over his tongue when he starts to tell him goodnight.

Newton doesn’t even look up.

By the time Hermann finally falls asleep, it's light outside.

Their relationship changes, after that. They’d always fought, but it had always been out of competitive personality and differing opinions. Now they’re angry, tense - they're completely unforgiving of each other. Newton wears headphones in the lab and doesn’t speak to him except to argue why his theories are stupid. Hermann snaps back just as bad as he gets, pushing Newton as far away as he can. If Newton hates him, he can hate Newton.

He can. He will. Eventually.


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks later, they’re introduced to Raleigh Becket when trapped in the close quarters of an elevator. Newton speaks to him almost civilly for the first time since they ended their arrangement and Hermann snaps at him for it before he can stop himself.

Newton mocks him, but it sounds teasing, like it used to be. Startled, Hermann stares at him. For a few moments, it seems like they may get back to how they used to be, but then the elevator ride ends.

As Becket and Pentecost leave them, Hermann tries to apologize for being rude, but Newton snaps, “Whatever, _Dr. Gottlieb._ It’s fine.” and turns on his heel to avoid going the same way as Hermann.

Hermann has never hated the sound of his last name before. He walks to the lab alone.

When Newton finally shows up, he seems to go out of his way to make a mess, laughing when slime or kaiju parts make it to Hermann’s side of the line. By the time Pentecost and Ranger Hansen show up to hear their separate theories, Hermann takes a sick pride in their distaste for Newton’s plan.

“I know that you’re desperate to be right so that you haven’t wasted your life being a kaiju groupie,” Hermann hisses as the soldiers leave, “But it’s not going to work.” 

Newton already looks destroyed, his confidence always so much more fragile than he lets on, and Hermann feels guilt heavy in his lungs. He can’t bear to look at him for long. “It is going to work, Hermann,” Newton says finally, his voice tight, “And I’ll tell you something else. Fortune favours the brave, dude.” 

Hermann doesn’t know whether to appreciate the nickname or not. He remembers two weeks ago, how it hadn’t made an appearance among his breathy sounds and whispers. He doesn’t have anywhere to be, but he pretends he does and starts for the door. 

As he’s leaving he adds, forcing himself to sound more condescending than caring, “You heard them. They won't give you the equipment. And even if they did, you’d kill yourself.”

Newton shouts after him, but Hermann slams the door behind himself to drown him out.

The next time Hermann sees him, he’s seizing on the floor, and Hermann forgets to breathe. Pain shoots up his leg as he runs on it without thinking, throwing down his cane to shake Newton by the shoulders and screams at him.

“Newton! Newton, what have you _done?_ ” 

Newton’s eyes are rolled over white and his nose is bleeding. Hermann has no idea how long he’s been down here, how long he’s been like this. He could be as good as dead by now. 

Hermann’s blood feels like ice in his veins and everything seems to slow down, lose focus, go dim. He feels like every movement is through thick, heavy molasses as he reaches up to rip the squidcap off his head. “Newt, please, look at me.” His throat is tight and he can’t even hear the words as they leave his mouth. He can’t tell anymore if it’s Newton still shaking or if it’s his own hands. 

“Newt -” Newton blinks and Hermann sees his left eye is bloodshot. “Newton, can you hear me?”

He’s coughing, and Hermann remembers to breathe. “Newton.” He can’t stop saying his name, won’t stop saying it until he answers, “Please, Newton, say something.” 

“I was right,” Newton answers, “Get Pentecost.”

Suddenly livid, Hermann ignores him. “You’re bleeding,” he says instead. It comes out like an accusation. _How dare you bleed._ He can’t rein in anything he’s feeling, barely resisting the urge to slap him. 

Newton shakes his head like it doesn’t matter but Hermann’s head is spinning from the springboard jump from abject terror to numbing relief, and Newton almost died, and it’s only half past seven in the morning and he can’t do this anymore. 

His useless leg makes it nearly impossible to be of any help getting Newton into the nearest chair, but he does it anyway before getting him a glass of water. “Pentecost,” Newton repeats as Hermann shoves it into his hand. 

Hermann stops resisting the urge and cracks his hand across Newton’s face.

Stunned, Newton stares at him.

“One bloody minute, you idiot, I need to -” _protect you, be near you, never let you out of my sight again_ “- make sure you’re...all right.”

“You just hit me in the face,” Newton points out. He sounds like he’s not sure if he should be upset about it or not. Either way, Hermann ignores him.

“Yes, well.” _You deserved it._ “Apart from that.”

He asks a series of simple questions, checking for brain damage, but Newton only gets frustrated. “I’m _fine_ Hermann, get Pentecost _now._ ”

Hermann wants to tell him he’s sorry. He wants to touch him in some way, reassure himself that he’s alive and he’s breathing and he’ll be okay. He wants to kiss him before he leaves. But that’s over and he can’t, not anymore. Instead, he nods, glaring, and starts the trek to LOCCENT.

Newton almost looks worse than before by the time he returns with Pentecost, and all Pentecost tells him is to do it again.

Hermann goes from wanting to kill Newton to wanting to kill the Marshall in an instant.

When Newton leaves for the Bone Slums, Hermann returns to the lab, wandering aimlessly to Newton’s side. He finds a recorder marked “Kaiju Drift Experiment 1” and presses the button, but he’s moving on autopilot and isn’t even listening.

He hears Newton tell him _“You drove me to this”_ before the recording ends and drops the recorder on the floor. He barely makes it to Newton’s trashcan before vomiting. 

Hermann doesn’t feel as if he’s breathing again until he steps off the helicopter to see Newton - still alive, still talking, still breathing. Still absolutely out-of-his mind _reckless_ , and he does the only thing he can think to do.

“It’s what the rangers do,” he says quickly, in hopes of downplaying his fear and worry and his blind, furious desire to keep Newton as safe as he possibly can, “Share the neural load.” To his surprise, Newton doesn’t even hesitate to accept.

Hermann smiles at him. If nothing else, they'll die together.


	6. Chapter 6

The Drift is a flurry of emotion and thoughts and Hermann can barely tell what is his and what is Newton’s. He doesn’t remember crying in the bathroom with his head on his knees, but he feels it, his glasses clattering to the filthy floor as he puts his face in his hands.

He doesn’t wear glasses, doesn’t have tattoos on his wrists. This wasn’t where he was. He was in the lab, panicking, alone. This isn’t him, it’s not, but he feels it anyway.

_I shouldn’t have kissed him. I ruined everything God let me take it back I just want him back I’ll do anything he wants I don’t care I just want to have him back at all please. Please._

_Why do you hate me now? I just want you back._

Then all the thoughts are dark and angry and from another world, and all Hermann knows is that his plan will fail. It kills him to admit it but Newton was right, and the plan - his plan - will fail.

_I could never hate you,_ Hermann wants to say in the helicopter, _I tried, I’ve been trying all this time, but I can’t._

Newton doesn’t react at all, shivering and staring at his feet. _We’re not going to lose,_ Hermann thinks he hears him say out loud, but his mouth doesn’t move.

Hermann doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything. He nods, and they sit in tense, frightened silence for the entirety of the ride.

The clock hasn’t even been stopped for twenty minutes when Newton grabs his hand. Hermann thinks he’s leading him to his bunker, but they barely make it out of LOCCENT before Newton pins him to the wall.

“I’m sorry,” Hermann gasps, pulling Newton into a kiss before he’s even done speaking.

“Me too,” Newton huffs into his mouth, “It’s fine, it’s - God, it’s fine.”

He’s shaking like he had been when they’d kissed in the lab, and Hermann wraps an arm around him to keep him steady. “Newton,” he says in between frantic kisses, “Newton, we should - we should go to the barracks or - or the lab.”

Newton whines and shakes his head, pushing Hermann hard into the wall as he presses his head to his chest. He lets out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh and Hermann feels his chest clench. “No,” Newton finally manages, his voice unnervingly tight, “No, I - I need -”

His thoughts are running so fast, Hermann doesn’t even think Newton knows what he means to say. He wonders if Newton can feel him the same way Hermann can feel Newton, or if he can’t hear him over the cacophony in his own head.

“The world’s not ending anymore, Newton,” Hermann says gently, running a hand through his hair, “We have time.” Newton takes a deep breath and nods, but several seconds pass before he pulls away from Hermann and takes his hand.

They mean to go to the barracks, but their lab is closer, and Newton takes a sharp turn into the room. Hermann stumbles a moment before dropping his cane and falling hard into Newton, who focuses too entirely on catching Hermann and not enough on remaining balanced, and they both topple to the floor.

For a second, Newton is horrified. “Shit, are you okay?” 

His leg is throbbing, but not enough for him to care. Newton is sprawled out underneath him and breathing hard and fuck his leg, it doesn’t matter. Hermann never wants to get up again. He nods, and Newton lets out a laugh that borders on hysterical. “Sorry, I just - I got excited, sorry.”

Hermann smiles at him. “I love you,” he says easily. Newton already knows, he had to have felt it in the Drift and if he hadn’t, Hermann knows he’s feeling it now, but Newton gapes at him anyway, as if he never expected Hermann to say the words.

He hadn’t. Hermann knows he hadn’t because he can feel the shock prickling in his stomach.

“Me, too,” Newton says after a minute, dazed, and Hermann chuckles before Newton realizes himself and blushes. “I mean I - fuck, shut up, I love you, too. I was so stupid, I should’ve just - I thought -”

He feels Newton wondering why Hermann could possibly think he didn’t want him after they’d kissed, and Hermann doesn’t have a real answer. _No one used to like me,_ he thinks without meaning to, and feels a rush of embarrassment when he realizes Newton can hear him.

Nothing in Newton’s face changes. Hermann knows he heard it, because there’s no way he couldn’t, but Newton doesn’t react at all except to say, “You wanna move to the couch?”

Hermann’s about to say yes, but when he looks up, he hesitates. “No,” he says suddenly. “We should stay here.”

Newton follows his eyes, confused, before they land on the line of tape they’re lying across. He laughs. “I can’t tell if you’re being kinky or romantic.”

“I don’t see why it has to be just one,” Hermann says with a shrug. “Here -” he picks up his cane and holds it from the bottom end, stabbing it around under the couch until he feels it hit what he’s looking for. “Gotcha,” he mutters, yanking the handle back toward him.

Newton gapes as he watches the surgical lube slide into view. “Okay,” he says quietly, “That was probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

Hermann sniffs. “I take offense to that,” he says with mock indignation. Newton smirks, but before he can say anything, Hermann kisses him again. His hand drops to Newton’s filthy shirt. As he starts fingering the buttons, he feels Newton’s fingers wrap around his.

Hermann pulls back, confused, but Newton just grins at him. “They’re not going to put you off the mood, are they?”

Hermann purses his lips. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says flippantly, barely getting the words out of his mouth before he slides back into the kiss, pushing Newton’s hand away so that he could pull his shirt off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um, I didn't want to break up the sex scene into a bunch of little chapters so surprise this chapter is like three times the length of all the other ones I'm sorry.

Newton struggles out of his shirt the rest of the way before grabbing the edge of Hermann’s sweatervest and ripping it over his head. Hermann feels a stab of panic as Newton attacks his own buttons. He doesn’t care to think about it enough, usually, but suddenly, he’s embarrassed. His body definition is lopsided at best. He’s nothing look at.

“God, yes you are,” Newton growls against his neck, fingers fumbling with the last few buttons before pushing the shirt from Hermann’s shoulders. “You have the most amazing skin, I just - I just want -”

He breaks off to stare for a moment at Hermann’s chest, and Hermann takes a deep breath at the sudden enveloping adoration he feels radiating from Newton. He doesn’t say anything for almost a full minute, and Hermann is starting to feel nervous. He feels his neck start to turn red. Awkwardly, he tries, “Newton, I -”

“Shh, just - just let me see,” he says, his voice so unnaturally quiet. Hermann shivers, and Newton runs a hand over his chest. His eyes flick to Hermann’s face, looking for a reaction as he asks, “I’m going to flip you over, is that okay?”

Hermann takes a breath a nods. Newton is so delicate with switching their positions that he needn’t have even bothered to ask, but something about it is so reverent and tender that Hermann pulls Newton’s face into his neck, his fingers buried in his hair as he kisses his jaw.

Newton nuzzles into him, and Hermann wonders why they were so sparing with the ways they would touch, before. He remembers Newton’s hands on his face when he’d first kissed him, and how it made him warm and dizzy, and wonders what they were avoiding when it feels so much better this way.

Newton feels it too, Hermann can tell. He can feel it in his chest, bright and hot and shivering. He knows it in the way Newton is gasping into his neck as if already spent and exhausted, the way he can’t stop running his hands over Hermann’s skin. 

Hermann hears him, feels he’s desperate to move forward, but unable to pull his hands away. Hermann wonders if it would’ve been like this if they had touched before the Drift. Hermann can’t remember the last time anyone has had him like this. He doesn’t think anyone has ever done it to this extent. He can’t imagine being used to it.

“You’ll - you’ll get there eventually,” Newton whispers into his collarbone. “Because I’m - I’m not gonna stop.”

Hermann shudders, nodding. It feels electric, everything in the way Newton moves and breathes. He can feel Newton’s heart beating in his own chest, Newton’s mind swimming in his own head. He feels everything twice over, the most innocent touches driving him insane until his hips stutter against Newton’s.

Newton gasps and freezes for a moment, as if he’s forgotten that there is more to either of their bodies. After a second, he nods, as if Hermann has said something, and rolls off of him to shuffle out of his jeans.

Hermann busies himself with his own slacks in an effort to ignore the sudden vertigo he feels from not touching Newton in any way. He’s barely kicked his shoes off before Newton is back on him, jerking his pants the rest of the way off of him and crawling into his lap as Hermann shifts into a sitting position. 

“This - this won’t hurt your leg too much, will it?”

Hermann shakes his head. It always hurts his leg. It always will, no matter what position they take. He isn’t going to let that stop him.

He can tell Newton hears what he’s thinking from the look on his face, the way his eyes dart to his thigh for a moment. Hermann expects him to say something else, or suggest again that they go back to the couch, but he only nods. “All right.”

Hermann kisses him hard enough that their teeth clack together, and Newton chuckles.

It feels almost as if Newton is vibrating against him, shivering too much and unable to keep still. He grabs the lube from where Hermann left it and places it in his hand. Hermann looks at it, suddenly feeling inexplicably shy. he nods, swallowing, and opens it.

In Hermann’s experience, Newton has never been quiet during sex, but his past experiences have done nothing to prepare him for what he’s like now. Before, the way Newton has filled the silence has all been with friendly, absent-minded chatter, as if they’re simply standing side-by-side in the lunch line.

This is different. Newton isn’t speaking at all anymore, only making soft, mewling noises as Hermann presses two slick fingers inside him. Hermann knows he wants to speak (he can hear it keening and breathless as if Newton’s right in his ear: _more God please harder more more more_ ), but he only manages to work his jaw open and shut a few times.

He looks beautiful like this, feeling heavy and solid and squirming in his lap, the only skin visible under his maze of tattoos turning blotchy and pink. Hermann reaches his free hand up to touch his chest, scratching gently over the bold lines on his skin.

Seeing them now, in this mindset, in this light, he has to admit there’s something about them. Stark colours over his pale skin, bright and clear and there’s more to them than what he used to think. Symbols of understanding and of pride: _I survived this, I can survive anything._ He feels guilt for not appreciating them before.

He notices the distracted flash of a smile cross Newton’s face. “I can,” he huffs breathlessly, “hear you.” 

Hermann feels himself blush. “Yes, well…” he doesn’t have anything to say in any real sort of defense, so he trails off, and Newton’s eyes fall shut, his smile fading as he falls back into the rhythm. His neck cranes back, and Hermann, unable to help it, leans forward to bite it.

_Harder harder more more more please_

Hermann smiles to himself. “Begging is unbecoming, Newton,” he hisses under his breath, dragging his hand down his chest to rest on his thigh. Newton nods, but can’t control his thoughts. With a groan he falls into Hermann’s chest, as if attempting to muffle them into his neck.

Hermann wraps his arm around Newton and pushes in deeper, reveling in the way Newton cries out into his neck. “Yes _God, yes yes_...” Nails are digging into Hermann’s back and Newton can’t stop squirming. “Hermann, please, I - need -” Newton is grappling at him, one hand fisting in his hair and the other clawing down his side.

“God, you’re needy,” Hermann rasps, his voice lacking any sort of conviction as he nuzzles into Newton’s hair. He pulls his hand away and Newton whines, a flow of pleas coming out of him in a rush as he wraps around Hermann, his whole body trembling. 

Hermann can’t tell if it’s the Drift that’s making him like this, the fact that this is happening after so long without touching, or if maybe he was always like this if given the chance, but either way, he likes it. It feels powerful. Close. Heated.

With a grunt, Hermann slides his hand up to the back of Newton’s neck and squeezes until Newton falls still, his breath coming in short gasps against Hermann’s collarbone as Hermann positions Newton into his lap.

When Hermann slides into him, Newton gasps, everything in his body going tense, his legs locking around Hermann’s waist. Hermann runs a hand through his hair. “Newt - _God,_ Newton, look - look at me.” He takes Newton’s chin in his hand and guides it up until he meets his eyes.

There’s silence for a moment and then Newton begins to move, and Hermann feels every tiny spark of energy start to fire off from nowhere. He feels the sweat running down from Newton’s hair, the trembling he’s holding taunt in his arms. He hears blood coursing through his own veins and the keening whine held back in Newton’s throat.

Hermann jerks his hips and Newton murmurs, “God,” his muscles falling loose as he moves faster, pulls his legs tighter. Every sense is heightened so intensely that Hermann’s head is swimming. Newton’s skin hot and slick against him, the soft handfuls of Newton’s hair he’s pulling back to bear his neck, just to watch him breathe.

He pulls Newton as close as he can, pressing their chests together, pulling Newton’s head down into a kiss. The angle is strange, but when Hermann moves to lay back and have a better position, Newton grabs his shoulders and pulls.

“No!” he shouts, startling Hermann enough that he jumps. “No, no I like this - I want…” Hermann can feel what he wants. He wants to touch as much as he can, wants to feel Hermann’s chest and arms and wants to kiss his face and neck. He’s addicted to it, now, after two years of this arrangement and never touching much more than absolutely necessary. They can’t ever go back now, neither of them want to.

Their movements are jerky and shallow, but it doesn’t matter. It’s enough. Hermann pulls Newton’s head into his shoulder and pushes into him, feeling a dizzying warmth shoot up his spine as Newton groans.

Hermann wraps his arms around Newton and holds him, thrusting into him until he starts to move, fisting his hands in Hermann’s hair just to hold onto something. Their faces are pressed against each other, Newton’s glasses sliding off his face and hitting the floor. Newton doesn’t make any sort of move to imply he even notices, burying closer to Hermann’s neck.

Fingernails are digging into Hermann’s collarbone and scalp, Newton struggling to keep a grip as he moves in Hermann’s lap. He feels Newton’s mouth against his temple, soundlessly opening and closing again. He’s desperate to make words, but they all seem to get caught somewhere in his throat, coming out only as sharp, helpless breaths as Hermann rolls a hand down to Newton’s lap.

_please God yes please_

Hermann wraps his hand around Newton’s cock, and Newton jerks in his lap, biting into Hermann’s throat. Hermann gasps and pulls, causing Newton to bite down harder. Hermann whimpers, and Newton shivers at the sound, groaning into his skin. He’s taken to clawing at Hermann’s chest, the hand still in his hair clenching tight enough to rip it out.

_don’t stop harder harder_

In the haze of it, Hermann wants to tease him about being demanding, but he can’t focus long enough get the words out. Newton huffs a laugh in his ear, anyway.

Hermann grabs Newton by the hair and wrenches him backward, kissing him hard enough that their teeth slam together again. He knows Newton won’t last much longer and he doesn’t have much faith in himself, either. He can feel his blood ringing in his veins and every inch of his skin is tingling to the point where he’s almost numb.

Newton jerks in his lap, pulling back from the kiss to cry out, and Hermann feels him come in his hand. He whimpers against Hermann’s mouth as he strokes Newton through the aftershocks, shushing him gently for a moment. Newton shakes his head, still trying to move, despite the euphoric sluggishness creeping into his muscles.

_don’t stop please don’t stop_

“Newton -!” His leg is killing him by now but he doesn’t care, tipping forward until Newton’s back hits the ground. Newton groans, reaching down to run his hand over Hermann’s ruined thigh. Worry, an apology, Hermann presses a hand to Newton’s chest. “It’s - fine,” he grinds out, not because it is but because it doesn’t matter. Every painful second tomorrow will be worth it.

Newton’s legs tighten around Hermann’s waist. He’s barely making enough sound to even seem as if he’s breathing, and Hermann can’t take his eyes off his face. The hand not still on Hermann’s thigh reaches for his hand, clenches tight around his fingers. 

Hermann kisses his hand, his neck, his face. It’s so much and he can’t hold on and Newton is begging in his head _please please please_.

Hermann comes with a curse, barely able to tilt away from Newton before slumping onto his good side. They lay on the floor in silence for a few minutes, breathing hard while they catch their breath. Newton is still trembling, so Hermann runs a hand over his chest.

“Are you all right?”

Newton nods, his next few gasping breaths sounding almost like laughs. He’s smirking. He swallows hard to quiet his breathing. “Yeah,” he manages. “How’s your leg?”

Hermann grunts. “Worth it,” he answers. Newton looks at him like he wasn’t at all intelligible - that without the neural link he might have no idea what he’d said. He has no defense, so he shrugs. This has been the most exhausting day of his life. He hadn’t realized until now that he hasn’t seen his bed in almost twenty-four hours, and they have been the most eventful twenty-four hours anyone could ever possibly see.

He wants to sleep, but doesn’t want to get up. “It’s gonna be murder on your leg if we sleep here, Hermann.”

“Mm.”

“Not to mention we’re naked. If Herc or someone comes in at any point -”

Hermann stabs around with his cane a moment until he finds his coat and drags it over. With an exasperated huff he tosses it over them both.

“We should at least move to the couch.”

“Like it here.”

Newton chuckles. “You’re aware we’ve fallen fully onto my side of the lab, right?”

Hermann sits up with an irritated grunt, and gets to his feet. Newton follows with Hermann’s coat in his arms, laughing to himself as Hermann trudges to the couch. When Hermann lies down he snatches the coat from Newton first and drapes it over himself before grabbing onto Newton’s wrist.

Newton follows easily, burrowing under the coat with him. “Technically,” he whispers, “This is still my side.”

Hermann would roll his eyes if he had the strength to open them. “Go to sleep, Newton.”

When they wake up the next morning, Newton’s right side is numb from Hermann laying on it, and he has a sticky spot on his chest where Hermann had been drooling.

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Too Close" by Alex Clare


End file.
